


plakala (плакала)

by wordsasweapons



Series: to the stars through adversity | alina/evgenia one shots. [5]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Sad with a Happy Ending, Strained Relationships, rusnats gave me nice things and then ripped my heart right out, so this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsasweapons/pseuds/wordsasweapons
Summary: alina, evgenia, russia, and the bridges you have to cross to find a better place.





	plakala (плакала)

**Author's Note:**

> so this competition did a lot to me lmao. those feelings turned into fic, so here's this thing i guess. angst, alina's pov, and all the beautiful things i wish we could all somehow make her feel in times like these. ends on a good note because i'm not a total demon and couldn't really do that to myself anyway after this emotional roller coaster.

__**"My pushed body**  
Under the ice  
I can’t find  
My own soul  
It hurts  
Oh, how it hurts."

_**~~~** _

 

She's been here before, but it doesn't make it any easier. She's had disappointing skates, where she's left the ice questioning everything and wondering what she could have done better. Worlds and the tears, though, are a far cry from the emptiness coursing through her body. She's handed a plushy heart and manages a weak smile and thank you. But that might be the only sign of life. She shuts down. She doesn't want to cry like she did then, god forbid she cried like she did then. There's enough love being thrown in her direction and the crowd tries to help, but the arena feels empty. Daniil tries to move closer and support her but it feels suffocating. Eteri talks, but she doesn't even open her mouth to respond. Not even a head nod.

 

It burns, but Alina chokes it all down. She tries to remain as calm as possible, and give nothing away. It feels like her entire life revolves around trying not to break now.

 

The world seems like it's waiting for her to be beaten.

 

It feels like she's constantly trying to not let the world beat her.

 

The scores are announced. She hears Daniil breathe like he can't believe any of this and she doesn't really know what to make of that. It is what it is. Eteri sits on the other side and doesn't move. Maybe she doesn't even blink. Alina wouldn't really know. She won't look. She gathers her things and she makes for the exit. They had other girls to concern themselves with, and she could finally be alone.

 

Alone with herself might just be more preferable than feeling alone with many surrounding her.

 

When she passes through the small crowd lingering in the wing to watch, she pretends again. She pretends she doesn't notice a face that, despite her best efforts, despite everything that's happened, she would never truly be able to forget, or pretend didn't exist. It makes something else entirely burn deep in chest. Red hot and painful and a whole other kind of suffocating.

 

She tells herself to keep walking, keep looking ahead. Of course, if she had looked, she would have seen Polina looking concerned and subtly touching the back of the other who wouldn't turn her head either.

 

That's the way it was. That's the way it had to be. For whatever cruel, unfair reason she may never truly understand. She's just a girl trying to keep her head above water in a world she has no control over, no matter how much she tries and tries to fight back against it.

 

.

.

.

 

She manages to dodge as much of the media as she can. She didn't have all the answers for them, let alone enough for herself. She has time to sit by herself in the locker, away from the rest as they watch the remaining couple of competitors. She stares down at her feet, boots on either side. She feels her back flex and strain like she can't stop remembering how it felt to fall out of that spiral. She wasn't one for prayer, but she closes her eyes and just wishes. Hopes. _Please don't let me be another one_.

 

She can hear the ooo's and awe's and the claps muffled behind the closed door and the walls surrounding her. She still doesn't cry. She was never much of a crier to begin with. She never wanted to be.

 

Alina packs up her things in silence and sneaks out the back to her mother waiting in the car before anyone can stop her. Not that there was anyone who would, though.

 

If she had waited only a minute or two longer, that would be a different story. The girl in the black coat with pensive face she tried to pretend away stands in the middle of the locker room, staring at the empty shelves and seat labeled Zagitova.

 

Moments are fragile, anyway. And the world didn't seem kind enough to offer more than a few at a time that were of any use to her. To either of them.

 

.

.

.

 

She's alone in her hotel room, which was the norm at this point. Her mother hadn't even argued about whether or not she would or should stay. Alina always liked being alone in a room at competitions anyway. Offered less distraction. Now, she's never been more distracted by the plainness of the white walls. The silence surrounding her, save for her own breathing. And the constant replay of the night in her head. Earlier had been nothing, nothing, nothing. Now, it was all coming at her at once and closing her eyes and covering her face with her hands wasn't enough to make it go away. The feeling in her stomach, like a gut reaction telling her over and over you could've done better. You have done better. The aches and pains coursing through her body tell her another story. One where she did the best she could given everything playing against her.

 

None of it feels true.

 

All of it feels true.

 

Alone feels so much worse when you know how alone you are. But she didn't know how to say it after pretending for so long that nothing could break her. She didn't know how to say it without hearing _you don't need anyone, no one can really be your friend, they only want to distract you, defeat you_.

 

1AM, and a knock at her door nearly has her jumping out of her skin. And she pretends again. She hopes whoever is on the other side won't notice the small lamp light still on. She hopes it isn't Daniil or god forbid an Eteri trying to reach out, which was sometimes worse than not at all. She would apologize to her mother in the morning if it were her.

 

Another knock. This time, a little more purposeful. And she's forced to stop pretending. Pulling herself out of bed and over to the door to open it.

 

When she does, she's forced to stop pretending for another reason.

 

"Hi," is what Evgenia says to her. Months and months later, in the aftermath of it all.

 

Her mouth opens, but no words come out. A rapid succession of blinks following her mouth snapping back closed. She stands a little taller, a little more guarded. Eyes tentative. And Evgenia seems to register all of that quickly enough. In fact, the other girl jerks forward suddenly in some urgency.

 

"Please don't shut the door in my face."

 

She would be lying if she said the thought hadn't crossed her mind. But, there could be a metaphor or a lesson to be learned here. That closing the door on your problems won't save you in the long run. There were too many doors she needed to find the keys to and finally unlock. Some felt lost, some misplaced. This one wasn't lost, or misplaced. Merely kept hidden in the vain hope of a heart broken girl who never wanted it, this, _them_ to hurt her again.

 

She takes a long look at the girl standing opposite her, and eventually the door cracks open, slightly afar. Both literally, and metaphorically.

 

Evgenia's face transitions from quiet pleading, to quiet relief. Brushing by her and into the room.

 

Alina's eyes fall closed for a moment as she exhales and closes the door. It takes her another breath to finally turn back around. Arms wrapping loosely around her chest. Like she was trying to protect herself.

 

Evgenia's looking around the room like she's trying to gather herself, and buy herself some time before any stretch of silence becomes too long.

 

Finally their gazes meet again. And for the briefest moment she's transported back to that moment, near the end of her program when she had found herself in just the right position to see none other than Evgenia Medvedeva watching her, biting down on her lip. She shakes herself out of it as quickly as she had brushed it off earlier.

 

Breaking the silence, she quietly but sharply utters, "What are you doing here, Evgenia?"

 

At her words, there's a clear, visible flinch of the other dark haired girls shoulders.

 

"Don't do that," she whispers.

 

The tips of her fingers dig sharply into the sleeves of her sweater. Stomach tying up in knots. Speaking through slightly gritted teeth. "Do what?"

 

Evgenia's brows knit together in a way that conveys great strain to keep it altogether. Her eyes appearing sad and worried and Alina doesn't think she can look at that much longer. The other girl takes one step forward, and it's Alina's turn to flinch. Watching Evgenia breathe deeply and then exhale.

 

"Don't say my name like _that_ ,"

 

"Like _what_?"

 

"Like you can't even bear to be in the same space as me. Like you can't—like—"

 

Her chin drops. She feels it wobble and Jesus Christ, she didn't want to do this. Not ever. Not in front of anyone. Not in front of _her_.

 

"This isn't you, Alina," she murmurs. Voice careful, and when she looks back up she finds Evgenia looking at her like if she says the wrong thing or takes one wrong step she'll fall apart. "This is her, just—this isn't us, please... Don't shut me out."

 

And that's what does it.

 

"What _us_? There is no us!" She snaps. Eyes wild. " _You_ shut me out first, you couldn't be bothered to let me know you were— you were leaving."

 

Her breath hitches and catches over her own words and she can feel the tears mounting in the corners of her eyes. "You haven't even tried to speak to me after all this—"

 

"I'm here now," Evgenia says quickly. Another step forward. A hand reaching out for her. "Please..."

 

"No," she chokes out. A shaky hand of her own attempting to shove away the one outstretched towards her. "I don't need this. I don't need you."

 

"Alina..."

 

"You're too late."

 

Evgenia shakes her head back and forth, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she sucks in a shuddering breath. Shaking her head like no, no, no one more time. More confidently.

 

"I don't believe that."

 

Alina is the one who shakes her head this time. "You don't know anything."

 

"I know how hard this is for you."

 

"No," another shake. "No you don't. Not like this."

 

She's quiet for a moment. And this time she gives a conceding nod in the positive. "Maybe I don't."

 

Alina looks up from the floor, looking at her former training mate with glassy eyes. Somewhere close to anger and desperation.

 

"I held you when you cried in front of the world. I told _you_ it was going to be okay. I grieved for you and worried for you and no one was there for me, no one cried for me, no one cared when I cried and the one person I thought cared about me left me and never said goodbye and I—"

 

She can't continue, instead her words turn into a choking sob as her breath gets caught in her throat. And it feels like she can't breathe and all the doors she's been hiding behind were no longer doors, but a dam. And the entire thing finally broke. Her eyes close and she stumbles back and sits on the edge of the bed as she hangs her head. Taking gulping breathes.

 

It barely registers, but the bed dips beside her and there is a hand running soothingly up and down her back and she just chokes out another sob. Strangled words falling out somewhere in between.

 

"It hurts..."

 

"What?" Evgenia whispers, her hand stopping at the base of her neck. "What hurts, Al?"

 

She squeezes her eyes closed. Her mind. Her heart. Her entire body. For so many reasons.

 

"Everything."

 

She can't stop what happens next, and if she was being truly honest with herself, at this point she didn't care. Maybe, part of her always wanted it. Needed it. No matter how strong she tried to be and pretend otherwise.

 

That hand slides carefully from her neck over to her shoulder and she's lead right into Evgenia's body. Her face fitting perfectly in that crook between neck and shoulder. Evgenia's other hand comes to rest at the top of her head and she's reminded of that day in Peyongchang.

 

She burrows desperately into the once warm and safe space there in that body, and Alina allows herself to sob. And accept the comfort finally being offered to her. Fingers raking through her hair, a secure hand pressed to her shoulder blade. Quelling the shaking of her body.

 

And she isn't really sure how long they sit like that. But it's long enough that eventually the tears subside and her breathing evens out. The occasional shudder running through her as she breathes in and out.

 

When she manages to remember herself, where she is and who she's with she starts to extract herself. Only to be met with soft, big brown eyes when she lifts her head. A soft, warm hand falling away from her hair and coming to her cheek with a light brush of knuckles to skin.

 

"Do you feel better?"

 

All she can manage is a nod, and then, "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't apologize. That's why I'm here."

 

She looks down for a beat, and Evgenia continues. "I came to find you earlier. I think you had just left."

 

Those knuckles brush lightly over her cheek again, and there's a warmth that flares in her chest that wasn't the same as it had been all night. "You watched me tonight."

 

"So you did see me."

 

"I did."

 

There's a faint smile on perfect pink lips when she lifts her gaze. And a shaky one manages to cross her own.

 

"I did worry for you. I have the bite on the inside of my lip to prove it, if you want to see."

 

"No," she mutters with the tiniest of laughs. "That's okay."

 

That hand that's been hovering _just_  there finally comes to rest there on her cheek. Evgenia gently cradling her in the palm of her hand. "You're going to be okay."

 

She wants to believe that, wants to believe in anything Evgenia says as easily as she used to. "You don't know that," she whispers sadly.

 

"Nothing has ever kept you down for long, Zagitova. Nothing has ever truly beaten you. I would know."

 

Another tiny laugh. Watery brown eyes connecting with beautiful, bright, radiate brown.

 

"I don't regret being there for you. I'm sorry I said—"

 

The pad of Evgenia's thumb slips down her cheek and comes to rest over her lips, silencing her.

 

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that I never needed to be afraid of you. Of us. That we were so much stronger when it was us against the world, not the world against us."

 

Alina looks back at, intensely. Swallowing all things that hurt, all the things that tried to hurt them. All the things she herself was too proud to admit to. Evgenia's thumb falling away when her lips move to speak.

 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Like I used to be. I thought you were better off, I thought you— I never thought I was what you needed. I've watched all season, and I—"

 

She's shaking her head side to side, smiling a watery smile as she no longer has a smart, well thought out thing to say. Only the truth.

 

"I've never seen anything more beautiful than the strength and courage you've displayed."

 

Evgenia's smile reaches her eyes, and that little dimple in one cheek appears. The one that used to send her heart into a terrifying little tizzy until she finally figured out what that was all about.

 

"You know," the older girl states matter of factly. Hand falling away from her face now and coming to take one of her own. Fingers lazily tracing her knuckles before slipping in between hers. "There's one more thing I've never told you."

 

She straightens at that. A little doubt creeping in. Steeling herself for whatever it might be. Evgenia's eyes flick back and forth, like she's trying to take her in. Memorize every last feature in this moment.

 

"Do you remember that night in Japan?"

 

Of course she did. Of course she remembered the way they had stayed up nearly the entire night back in April, having a picnic in bed and laughing when soy sauce and chopsticks nearly went flying. Of course she remembered the way Evgenia had reached to wipe the sauce away from the corner of her mouth and Alina had been laughing so hard, making Evgenia laugh more and in their giggling state found themselves falling into each other and an accidental kiss that, right at the end, wasn't so accidental when she had turned a little more into it.

 

How could she forget? Though she's tried. Because Evgenia had to have known after that. Known what _Alina's_ never said.

 

"Zhen..."

 

Evgenia breathes out, a smile around her words and breath. "It's okay," she says while squeezing the hand she's holding. Only to let go a second later as that hand finds its way back to its previous placement. "Can I?" she whispers.

 

She's breathless again, but it isn't so bad this time. Staring at Evgenia in complete astonishment and wonderment. A simple nod of her head her answer.

 

Evgenia's lips press to hers, and she could be embarrassed about the sound that escapes the back of her throat, but it doesn't matter. She kisses back and presses a little closer as she drapes her arms around the other girls neck. The hand on her cheek eventually turning into thumb pressed into her cheekbone as fingers cradle her jaw. The briefest taste of tongue brushing tongue when their lips part to breathe but refuse to part, deepening for a moment before Evgenia's forehead falls to hers and she finds herself playing with the collar of Evgenia's hoodie.

 

"What was it you wanted to say?" She lightly husks. Earning a rich laugh.

 

"Was that not enough for you?"

 

A slight cock of her brow, Evgenia pulling away enough to actually look at her, grinning.

 

"I saw a sign here this week that said Alina plus Evgenia equals Russia."

 

Her brows knit together slightly. "What?"

 

"I was thinking the Alina plus Evgenia part doesn't sound so bad."

 

It takes her another moment. And then it clicks. Why she had brought up that night. Why their second kiss (first _real_ one) happened, and why she was saying this. And the first ridiculous, toothy grin appears on her face all night.

 

"You mean...?"

 

"Not right away. I know there's plenty more we need to iron out before, but. One day. If you'll have me."

 

This time, she kisses Evgenia. Because she can. Because she's not afraid anymore. Because there's a promise of mending all these bridges, and the hope that... one day.

 

One day could mean many things. One day she could find the courage to say she deserved better than what she was getting. One day she could be all of the things she's spending every single day trying to be.

 

One day doesn't sound so bad when you don't have to do it alone.

 

.

.

.

 

_**She ended crying and** _

_**A violet bloomed supposed** _

_**The day shared shine** _

_**With secret signs gracefully** _

 

 


End file.
